28. Consequences
Chapter twenty-eight
Consequences
Iforgot to bring the cookies home.
Sitting on the couch, I run the edges of my favorite blanket through my fingers. Liam crouches down in front of me, holding out my Titans mug. Steam gently unfurls from the top. “Tea?”
“Thanks.” His hands find my knees, rubbing them as I take a sip. My hands are still shaking. “Have you heard anything from him?”
“Probably won’t for a while.” Liam shakes his head. “It’s already hit social media.”
Setting my tea down on the floor at my feet, I reach into my pocket for my phone and scroll through. Bile creeps up my throat at the shaky footage. Carter is on top of Boone, yelling in his face, and the caption reads Carter Reynolds drops the glove on Boone Mercer at Titans press conference.
A dozen more recordings follow, all of them from different angles and all of them talking about the fight. Tossing the phone to the couch, I sink my head into my hands. “Looks like Valerie Adams has her story.”
His hands grow tight on my knees, gripping them. “She wouldn’t have a story if you hadn’t given her one.”
At the biting, cutting words, my head yanks back in disbelief. “What? What exactly about any of this is my fault?”
What the hell? I stare at him, taking in the tight line of his jaw, the grip he has on me. “Oh my god. You do actually believe this is my fault. You’re going to need to join the dots for me here, because I had nothing to do with what happened on that stage.”
I try to shove his hands away so I can pull my legs up, but he doesn’t let go. Liam pulls me forward instead, until our faces are close together. “Mercer wouldn’t have said that if you hadn’t made him think that he could. You know that, right?”
“Let me go.” My hands wrap around his, pulling at them, but it’s like trying to move a freight train with my bare hands. My eyes dart around the room. But there’s nobody else home. Just me, and Liam, and the tone of my voice climbs sharply. “Seriously, Liam. That’s bullshit.”
“I don’t think it is,” he says quietly. His thumbs are still rubbing in circles that no longer feel remotely comforting. “I warned you in Chicago, but you didn’t listen, did you?”
“I’m going to bed.” The shaking in my limbs grows as I try to stand up, to pull away. To do anything. “This is ridiculous. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
“We’re going to talk about it now.” His voice is hard. “Sit the fuck down.”
My ass hits the couch hard. I press my back against the leather, breathing heavily.
“I saw you with Navarro earlier.” He watches every flicker of my face. Swallowing, I stare back at him, trying for impassive as the back of my eyes begin to burn. “Shaw, too.”
“I was assigned to them.” I plead with him, trying to make him understand. “I didn’t ask to be given them, Liam. I was doing my job.”
“I’ve tried to ease you into this gently.
” I try to pull away when he grabs for my wrists, holding them in place.
“I’ve done everything I can to make this easier on you, Rosie.
You think it’s nice, putting a fucking bark on you just so we can have a peaceful life?
Or keeping at a distance from my own fucking scent match in case you get upset? You think I want to do that? Do you?”
He presses his forehead to mine when I don’t say anything, whispering words that strike my skin like flint.
“I tried to coax you into this gently. But you’re still running around, doing whatever you want and putting our pack at risk.
Carter’s season is unraveling because of you, and I will not stand by and let that happen because he has this fucking unwavering blind loyalty where you’re concerned. ”
My fingers shift across the couch, searching for my phone.
This—this is not safe. I need help. Licking my lips, I search for something, anything, to make him back off. “You’re not making any sense. You said you wanted me as part of this pack. You’re acting like I’m—I’m some sort of threat to you!”
My voice cracks. “I’ve done everything you wanted. I stepped aside, I stepped back, I made myself smaller. There is nothing more that I can do. Do you want me gone? Is that it?”
“No.” His eyes close, and I feel his exhale on my lips.
“Fuck, Ro. Of course I don’t want that. That’s the last thing I want.
Look. The bark is… there’s obviously too much grey area.
You shouldn’t be getting friendly with our biggest fucking rivals.
Look what happened tonight. And I’ve tried the carrot with you, haven’t I?
I didn’t punish you in Chicago, but you’re still acting out. ”
His eyes slide open, and all I see is steel. “I think we need to try the stick.”
My fingers curl around thin, cool metal, and I suck in a breath. “The… stick.”
“Consequences.” Liam reaches for my face, touching my chin, keeping it turned toward him. “Actions have consequences, Ro, and you need to learn that. This is a reflection of your behavior, not mine.”
Punishment. Physical punishment.
“This is insane.” Yanking my chin from his hand, I look around the room. Mentally calculating the steps toward the hall, toward the elevator.
“I don’t take any pleasure in this,” he says tightly. “I wanted to avoid it, Rosie. But you couldn’t help yourself. Always pushing it. You wanted a reaction from messing around with the Aces, and now you’ve got it. Maybe next time you’ll think twice.”
He pushes back from me, getting to his feet. Liam extends a hand to me. “Come on. Sooner it’s done, sooner we can all move on.”
I look from his outstretched hand to his face. Something resembling a laugh, torn and twisted and broken, curls up my throat. “You’re serious.”
“Don’t make it harder than it needs to be.” His eyes are flint and stone. “I’m delivering a punishment as your alpha, Rosie. This is normal.”
If you’re in the fucking Stone Age.
But he doesn’t move, and I realize with a wash of cold ice over my skin that he really isn’t joking. This strange, cold alpha isn’t a version of Liam that I recognize.
Nor do I recognize the voice that comes from my mouth. That sounds cold too, and even. “Why don’t you make me? You’re good at that.”
“That’s unfair.” He lifts his hand. “Come on, Ro. You’re dragging this out.”
Damn right I am. “Unfair is punishing me for no fucking reason, Liam!”
He edges closer. “You can’t tell me you don’t see how your actions caused things to snowball with Carter tonight. You’re supposed to be his omega. Not whoring yourself out to the competition.”
I’m supposed to be Liam’s omega too, but that doesn’t seem to be a part of this conversation.
I flinch, and Liam presses forward. “He might be too weak to do what needs to be done with you, but I’m not. Get up. I’m done talking.”
My foot kicks out, connecting with his stomach and shoving him back as he grunts. Flinging myself from the couch, I race for the hall, trying to reach the bathroom with my phone clutched in my hand.
Someone will come—
They’re coming home. Any second—
I slam the door behind me with a sob in my throat, but it collides with Liam instead. He pushes inside the bathroom, his hand grabbing for my phone. “For fucks’ sake, Rosie. Stop looking at me like I’m going to hurt you!”
“You are going to hurt me!” My nails strike out at his face, but he shoves my hand out of the way. My phone smashes against the sink. “You’re already fucking hurting me!”
He wraps his arms around my stomach and lifts me easily. My hands scrabble for purchase against the door frame, against the walls in the hallway, panicked noises sounding in my throat as Liam pulls me into my nest and slams the door.
“I’ll make this quick.” He drags me to the end of my bed, shoving blankets aside and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Let this be the first and last time, Rosie. Lay down.”
No. I fight him, but I’m no match for a nineteen stone enforcer. He bundles me over his lap, tugging at my trousers. “You’re going to count to ten, and then it’s over.”
My sobs fill the air, humiliation sinking into my skin with taloned hands as he exposes my ass to the air. We’ve played before, but not like this.
Never like this. “Stop. Please—”
His hand connects with my bare skin, a slap ringing out. My hair coats my face as I struggle, my mouth opening on a silent cry as my back arches and he pushes me back down.
“Count,” he says after a moment of shocked silence. “Or I start again, Rosie. I mean it.”
I know he means it. He never says anything he doesn’t mean.
And nobody is coming.
The fight leaves my muscles inch by inch, replaced by a trembling that attaches to every muscle as I lay over him, staring at the floor. My vision mists. “O-one.”
Again. This one is harder. Stinging.
And again.
Over, and over again.
When he’s finished, a voiceless twelve hovers on my lips. His hand lifts from my back, but I don’t move.
Liam’s voice wavers. “It’s done. That’s the end of it.”
I don’t say a word as he carefully tugs my trousers back into place and helps me up. “You might be sore tomorrow.”
Taking a single step away from him, I look at the floor. “What now?”
When Liam stands, I flinch back. “I’m going to run you a bath. It’ll make you feel better. Then we’ll get some sleep, after we fix you up.”
Fix me up. Another layer of demands to keep the cage bars intact. I absorb the words as if I’m standing at a distance, watching. An impartial observer to my own life.
His lips brush my forehead. “You did well. It’s been a long day. Tomorrow will be easier.”
He steps into my bathroom. The sound of water gushing follows a moment later. The toilet seat. The sound of the flush. Hands being washed.
And all the while, I stare at my nest. At the blanket collection I’ve built over three years, thinking I was building a life.
At the sweatshirts I rotate in and out. At the shelves Jonas built for me around the deep mattress, each one covered with tattered, dog-eared books and jeweled lights and pretty trinkets I thought I needed to feel safe. “Can I stay in your room tonight?”
“You say something?” Liam calls over the water before it cuts out. “Bath’s done.”
I don’t need these things anymore.
Because nowhere is safe.